...
Daryl
pulled Sasha’s bra off his crossbow and handed it back to her. They needed to get back
to his bike, back to the prison and let the others know who they encountered.
From the
way Teeth, Henry, had talked, they had a big group, maybe forty well-armed,
battle-hardened people. People who raped and murdered for sport. The last thing
they needed was for those assholes to come riding up on them spoiling for a
fight.
“You okay?”
Daryl asked, nodding at the cut on Sasha’s stomach. It probably looked worse
than it was. That's what Daryl hoped, anyway. He watched her grimace when she
lowered her shirt.
“Yeah,”
she said. It'll be fine. I'll ask Hershel to look it over when we get home.”
They
started on the long hike back to the road. The group that took them wasn’t
stupid. They knew to stay off the road, especially at night, so campfires
couldn’t easily be seen by travelers who may be more dangerous than the dead.
They walked for what seemed like hours, with Sasha trusting Daryl’s sense of
direction, before they finally they emerged from the trees and Daryl sighed.
His bike was right where their captors had left it—in the back of their truck.
He
wheeled it out of the bed of the truck while Sasha dug for the keys in her bag.
She’d taken a set but they didn’t belong to the truck, and it was too far to
walk back to look for them.
“We’re
leaving all this shit here,” Daryl said. “Supplies ain’t worth a run-in with
the rest of their group. We'll come back for it another time.”
“Traveling
at night’s dangerous,” Sasha said. “Should we make another camp and start off
in the morning?”
Daryl
shook his head. “It’s more dangerous being out here. We’re getting home, now.”
She
agreed, anxious, afraid more bad guys would jump out of the woods like
nightmarish jack-in-the-box characters, springing out not just to startle, but
to rape, torture, and kill. She climbed onto the bike behind Daryl and he
started it up. God, the thing sounded so fucking loud in the otherwise quiet,
peaceful night. It made her tense up. Made the wound on her stomach ache even
harder.
She held
on tight as Daryl turned them around started for home. The warm night air was
nice against her face. She rode behind Daryl, the ghost of his touch, of him
having been inside her, was something she could still feel. She could even
still taste him in her mouth and she liked it. She rested her head on his
shoulder. God, she was exhausted. It would be so nice to just go home, climb
into her bunk, and sink into sleep, safely surrounded by friends and family.
The bike
slowed but it was too soon. They were nowhere near home. Sasha lifted her head
from Daryl’s shoulder and looked further down the road.
“Shit,”
she said, doubting Daryl could hear over the roar of the engine and the rush of
the wind. Up ahead the road was partially blocked by a truck. Some men stood
around it. There was a confederate flag in the rear window—just like the other
truck that had belonged to Henry and Seb. They were likely from the same group.
“Daryl?”
“Hold on
tight!” he shouted.
The bike
surged forward. Sasha followed his advice andr held on as Daryl headed right for
the narrow gap in the road. Some asshole tried to play chicken with him, daring
him to stop. Gunshots rang out and Sasha waited for a bullet to either strike
her, strike Daryl, or hit the bike and cause a deadly wreck, but Daryl kept
going.
“Fuck
you!” someone shouted angrily, as Daryl roared past. He kept up a zig-zag
pattern, and suddenly the headlight on the bike cut off, plunging them into
darkness. Had it been shot out?
“Daryl?”
“Just
hang on!”
The bike
surged forward again as Daryl put on a busy of speed. A moment later the
headlight came back on. He’d made them harder to see, impossible to really aim
at in the darkness, and with ammo limited for everybody, they wouldn't want to
waste any on firing blindly at her and Daryl. Sasha glanced back. The truck had
started, she could see their headlights in the distance. She wasn’t sure but
she thought they were close to the prison.
Once
again Daryl cut the headlight on the bike and slowed, hard, cutting into the
brush on the side of the road making her have to squeeze hard just to keep her
balance. He drove into the woods and stopped, cutting the engine on the bike.
“Off,
now,” he said.
Sasha
hurried to get off the bike while Daryl pushed it behind some overgrown shrubs,
hiding it. Then she felt him grab her hand, unerringly, in the dark, before he
pulled her behind a tree. The truck was on the road, slowing down. They had a
searchlight and they were scanning either side of the road. Daryl was solid and
warm as he hugged her to his chest, using the tree for cover. Once the truck
eased past he began pulling her into the woods.
“Shit,”
he said.
“What?”
“Walkers.”
There
were about four of them, meandering around in the night, quiet, slow, until
they realized the living was amongst them. Sasha pulled her knife, Daryl did
likewise, and they moved around them. The walkers, excited now, tried to
follow, though in the dark, with the canopy of trees above blocking out the
moonlight, it was hard to keep track of their prey.
“Spread
out,” someone yelled from behind them, alarmingly close. “They’re around here
somewhere.”
Daryl and
Sasha ran. The voices were far back, and they had a head start, but they were
still too close for Sasha’s comfort.
“We’re
gonna get lost,” she said.
“Nah, I
know the area,” he assured her. “We’re only a couple miles from home. Just keep
moving.”
It wasn’t
until now that Sasha realized she could feel something sticky. She felt warmth
slick her hand. “Daryl, you’re bleeding.”
“I know.
We need to get home, come on.”
They kept
running. Sasha couldn’t see, she tripped several times, feeling like some
helpless damsel in distress in a classic horror movie. Unlike those women,
though, she didn’t actually fall, just came close to it. Several times they
almost ran headlong into walkers but they never stopped. Daryl just shoved
through them like a linebacker in a high stakes game, knowing if they lost,
they died.
“These
assholes won’t quit,” Daryl said. He sounded winded, pained. She wanted to look
him over but knew she couldn’t. They really couldn’t afford to stop.
“Up
ahead,” he panted.
Sasha saw
it, the prison, bathed in silver moonlight. The place had never looked so
fucking good. She could almost weep with relief. She spotted Carol Peletier on
the tower by the gate.
“Carol!
Open the gate!” Daryl hollered. “We’re comin’ in hot! Got some assholes on our
tail!”
They still
had to cross the footbridge, run the length of the fence, and then get in.
There was a group of walkers already on the fences, trying to push their way
in, making their escape route between the ground and the creek very
narrow. There was a flash of light, an S.O.S. signal from Carol. Sasha held
fast to Daryl’s blood-slicked hand while they approached, hoping to God neither
of them got tripped up, scratched or bitten by walkers, or shot by their
pursuers. They were so close to home.
Please,
please let us make it, Sasha prayed.
Her
brother had always been more of a believer in the Almighty, but damn if she
wasn’t hoping He was real and He would give them a fighting chance. Just a
little tiny miracle was all they needed. When she risked a glance back and saw
the flashlights of the hostile little mob bobbing through the trees behind
them, she wasn’t sure they’d make it.
“Oh,
God,” Sasha whimpered.
“Hang on,
almost there,” Daryl said.
He was
taking out walkers now. She wanted to, as well, but she felt oddly weak. It was
hard to lift her arms and now that she thought about it, the wound in her belly
didn’t hurt nearly as much as her side. She’d thought it was a stitch at first,
from all the running. Now she was pretty sure it was something worse. Something
that had been numb but was coming to life. Nausea made her already empty
stomach roll.
“Daryl…I
don’t feel…”
The gate
was open. Glenn and Maggie were there Daryl killed one more walker that was
reaching for them, while a couple more got hung up on the spikes by the fence,
impaling themselves, their bony, rotted hands grasping in their direction,
finding only empty air instead of live flesh. Sasha looked back, heard a
gunshot.
“Shit!”
Carol said, as something sparked on the railing right beside her. She knelt
down, made herself a smaller target, and took a few shots in the direction of
the shooters. She was rewarded with a cry of pain and some curses.
The gate
slammed closed behind them, there were several loud bangs as bullets hit the
metal. These jerks were demented, aggressive. They could see there were armed
guards where their quarry had run, knew they were likely outnumbered, but they
still tried to kill whoever they could aim at.
“We made
it,” Daryl said.
“Sasha,
you’re bleeding,” said Maggie.
Sasha
heard the words but they didn’t make a lot of sense. Her arms weren’t the only
thing heavy. Her legs felt like they weighed 200lbs each and each breath was a
struggle.
“Yeah…we
made it…” she started to say.
A moment
later she was in Daryl’s arms. A moment after that, she was in complete
darkness.
…
Carol,
Hershel, Glenn, Maggie, and Rick sat in the council room. Rick didn't normally
sit in, but he was now. He watched while Hershel examined the wound on Daryl's
arm.
“Grazed
you pretty good but it won't need stitches,” Hershel said, giving his final
verdict.
“I'm more
concerned with Sasha,” said Maggie.
“Bob and
Dr. S are looking her over,” said Carol. She'd gotten a flesh wound, too.
Nothing a band aid couldn't handle.
“Zach
says they're out there now, skulking in the woods,” said Rick.
He was
still looking at Daryl. They all were. He'd told them about the attack, what
Henry had planned for him and Sasha. It was the looks of pity in their faces
now that Daryl hated. If they were anybody else he wouldn't have told them what
Henry did, but he trusted them.
That
trust didn't make the pity ok, but it made it bearable. It made the heavy
silence that hung in the room while Hershel wrapped his wounded arm tolerable.
“We need
to kill these guys,” Carol said.
“They’ve
already sent for their group,” said Rick. “Daryl took out four of them. The rest
of them will ride up on us any minute.”
“I say we
get rid of the ones already here before their men come,” Glenn said. “How many
are there, exactly?”
“From my
count, six,” said Carol. “I took one out. Five living.”
“They’re
gonna want blood,” said Maggie. “Daryl said they had about 4o men. He killed
four, we’ve killed another. They’re down five men but they’re still a big
threat.”
“We’re
trapped behind these walls,” said Hershel, taking a seat. “We’ve got food to
last us a good week but they can come and go as they please. We’ll have to come
out and fight.”
“So we
leave through the tombs,” said Glenn. “Send our best fighters out and surround
them before the sun comes up. We can wait till nightfall if we have to, attack
in the dark. We know this area better than they do.”
“We’ll
secure our place first,” said Rick. “We’ll see what their next move is. Maybe
we can even strike some kind of deal, or let them think we are. For now Daryl
needs rest. There’s only a few hours till sunrise.”
“I can go
keep watch on the wall.”
Rick was
already shaking his head. “I need you sharp. Go sleep. There’ll be plenty for
you to do when you get up.”
Daryl
didn’t go right to his bunk. Instead he headed for the infirmary and checked in
on Sasha. Dr. S had her bandaged up and she was asleep.
“How’s
she doing?”
“Not
well,” he said, motioning for Daryl to step into the hall while Bob Stookey
checked a bag of IV fluids hanging over her bed. Tyreese, her brother, sat in
the corner.
“What’s
wrong?”
“We need
to operate but I don’t have the anesthetics to properly numb her. She’s got a
bullet lodged in her side. I need to get it out as soon as possible.”
“Gimme a
list of what ya need. I’ll get it,” said Daryl.
“I
thought there were enemies at the gate?”
Bob was
leaning in the doorway. Daryl hadn’t gotten to know him very well but he seemed
likable enough.
“There
are, but I’ll find a way,” said Daryl. “Just get that list together. How long’s
she got?”
“I can
keep her stable for another day. After that I’ll have to operate and I can’t
just go in without anesthesia,” Dr. S explained. “I’ll get that list.”
“Meanwhile
you get some sleep,” Bob said. “You look ready to drop.”
Daryl
nodded and came into the room. He climbed up on an empty bed in the infirmary
next to Sasha and gazed at her while the weariness set into his bones, making
him feel like he weighed a thousand pounds. She was so beautiful, and he still
couldn’t quite believe she’d shared her body with him just a couple of hours
ago. He could vividly remember slipping inside her, feeling her hands grip his
shoulders, the eagerness with which she kissed him as he’d pumped into her.
He was
going to save her. He didn’t care how many of these assholes he had to kill to
do it.
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